THAT MYSTERIOUS TEXAS BRAND MAN Read online

  "You shouldn't be leaving at all," Laura replied in a rush.

  That struck him silent. He sensed there was a real plea behind those words. He blinked and cleared his throat. Told himself not to speak. Not to let the words dancing on the tip of his tongue escape. He even gritted his teeth.

  Then he looked into the huge black eyes staring across the table at him, at the fear in Laura's face, and the words gushed out of him like a geyser. "Would you be able to sleep better if I stayed?"

  Laura blinked in surprise. "Did I say I couldn't sleep?"

  "You sure did."

  "Well, did I say why?"

  "No. But I can see you're scared, Laura. It's in your eyes."

  "Yeah, and I can see you're creative. That's gotta be the best line I've ever heard a guy use to get himself invited to spend the night." She glanced at her sister. "You buying this, Case?"

  "Hook, line and sinker," she said. "I vote he stays. How about you?"

  "Hey, this is none of my business." But she was looking at Casey as if she didn't know her.

  "He'll be sleeping on the sofa," Casey said. "Alone."

  "Right."

  "Laura!"

  "Okay, okay, whatever you say." She slugged down her cocoa, then eyed Marcus until he took a gulp of his own just to break eye contact.

  When he set the cup down she was still looking at him, only now she was smiling. "You have a chocolate mustache." A soft giggle escaped her.

  "So do you," he told her, though she didn't. She laughed harder and swiped at her face. And he thought she was an angel. An angel in need of protection. And he was the guy to provide it.

  "You can stay," she told him. "Men who drink cocoa neatly are entirely too anal and serious for my sister. She's got enough of that for two, believe me."

  "I always thought I was pretty anal and serious," he said, and it was nothing less than the truth.

  "Then it must be the company," Laura confessed.

  "Must be."

  There was something going on between this girl and him. That it was obvious didn't become apparent until Casey cleared her throat rather uncomfortably, and Marcus broke eye contact with Laura, looked at Casey and felt himself battle an urge to explain. And then he wasn't sure he could if he wanted to. He felt something for Laura. But it was different—totally different from the feelings he had swirling around inside him for Casey. And none of it mattered, because he didn't intend to let himself continue feeling at all. Nothing. Not for either of the Jones women.

  He was insane to be staying here. Totally insane.

  She must be out of her mind. Casey yanked cushions from the sofa bed and hurled them carelessly onto the floor, then bent to haul the mattress out of its hiding place. What the hell had come over her in the past two hours? Who was this lunatic running around in her body, anyway? It sure as hell wasn't Casey Jones, intrepid reporter, revealer of secrets, independent woman no more in need of a man than of a second head. Because she'd practically stood on her head to get him in here. And then she'd flirted with him. She'd come on to him so shamelessly she might as well have just come right out and told him she'd really like to jump his bones.

  She pushed a hand backward through her hair and wondered what the hell had come over her. Marcus—if that was his real name—and Laura were still in the kitchen sipping cocoa. And come to think of it, that wasn't her real name, either. No wonder those two hit it off so well. Laura looking at Marcus with her big dark eyes. Marcus staring back at her, as stunned as if Cupid's arrow had just nailed him right in the backside. Casey sitting there feeling like chopped liver.

  Casey swallowed that selfish feeling. Or tried to. True, she hadn't been this attracted to a man in … in her life. But if Laura liked him, then…

  Oh hell, why did Laura have to like him?

  She crammed a pillow into a clean case as if she were stuffing a sausage and flung it into the chair beside the sofa bed. Then she snapped a fitted sheet onto one corner of the mattress.

  Then she sighed. At least one good thing had come of all this. She'd seen his face. She was the one and only reporter in the entire universe to have done so. She knew the true identity of the Guardian.

  Well, maybe not his whole identity. She knew his face, though.

  Yeah. She knew his face. Sighing, she let go of the sheet, smoothed a hand over it and sat down slowly on the bed. He had a great face, not a pretty one. Not a soft one. But square and boxy, rugged in its harsh lines and angles. Bronzed skin despite his life in the darkness. He must see the sun sometime, she mused, or else he had a tanning bed somewhere that got a lot of use. His eyes were a matched pair of shiny black olives. In color, a lot like Laura's eyes, but the shape differed. Hers were round, wide and innocent. His, narrow and wary, almond-shaped and tilting upward. So much suspicion lurked in their ebony depths it seemed it would spill out and poison everyone around him. So much distrust. A dark wall lined those eyes, a wall designed to keep people out. And she wondered if those eyes ever softened. If anyone had ever seen them smile or warm with feeling.

  He didn't seem to display much of that. Feeling. He had feelings, though, but kept them prisoner—life sentence in solitary.

  His dark hair was cut short and neat, yet she doubted that matched his personality. The style seemed conservative and respectable. But he seemed like a caged lion, a wild man waiting to be cut loose. A frustrated man who didn't even know that he was hiding behind a facade of heroism.

  He stepped in from the kitchen. His footsteps didn't alert her to his presence until after his aura did. She sensed him before she heard him.

  She only stiffened for a moment. Quickly she resumed her task, smoothing the top sheet over the fitted one, folding the corners.

  "I'd have done that myself."

  "Don't be silly. I don't mind at all."

  "Sure you do." He came closer, reached around her and took the folded corner from her hands. "I'm not used to being waited on by a woman, Casey."

  "I'm not used to having overnight houseguests," she countered.

  "So I gathered from what your sister said."

  Casey closed her eyes. "She talks too much." Casey gently moved his arms aside so she could step away from him, put some distance between them. "But she's a wonderful person, Marcus. And I'm not going to let her get hurt."

  He sighed, lowered his head. "Neither am I." Turning slowly, Marcus paced away from her, then stopped and faced her once more. "I know it's awkward … my spending the night. I didn't mean to offer, it just sort of … came out."

  "Laura can have that effect on men sometimes."

  He frowned, tilted his head to one side. "It's just that she seemed so frightened—"

  Casey held up one hand like a traffic cop. "Hey, no need to explain anything to me. I'm the one who talked you into coming in here in the first place, right?" Something was showing in her eyes, she could tell by the way he was searching them, so she looked away.

  "You think I'm interested in her, don't you, Casey?"

  Casey only shook her head and started forward, moving past Marcus and toward the stairs. "It's none of my business who you're interested in, Marcus. I could care less—"

  He grabbed her arm when she moved past him, his grip firm but not painful. "You're a liar."

  "Let go of me, Marcus."

  "Not until I make something very clear to you, Casey. Look at me." She didn't, so he said it again. "Look at me."

  Slowly she moved her gaze upward until it locked with his.

  "Now, listen carefully, because I'm only going to explain this to you once. I don't do relationships, Casey. I don't do dates or flowers or promises. I don't fall in love, don't even believe in it. Do you understand all that?"

  "Perfectly," she whispered, her heart in her throat. "I got the message, 'Guardian.'"

  "No, I don't think you did. Not yet. I don't want your sister, Casey. I want you."

  Her heart stopped. Her eyes widened. "B-but you just said…"

  "I know what I said. I said
it for a reason. It's fair, don't you think, that I tell you up front? So that when it happens, you'll know the rules."

  She felt her temper rising like a flame into her face. "The rules?"

  He nodded and slowly released her arm.

  She lifted a hand and gripped his instead. "So you don't feel a thing for me, but you're still willing to have sex."

  He looked a bit guilty. "It's what we both want. You've made that pretty obvious, Casey."

  "Sex without feeling? That's what I want?"

  He shook his head, started to turn away.

  "Just a minute, Marcus. I have a few rules of my own to tell you about."

  One brow rose higher than the other as he faced her again. "Do you?"

  She ignored the flutter in her stomach and rushed on. "Yeah. Rule number one—no casual sex. No flings. No one-night stands. No sex of any kind with men who don't believe in love. Sorry, Marcus, but the farthest you're going to get with me will be in your dreams tonight."

  He gaped at her. Then he shrugged. "I think you're wrong, but I'm not going to argue about it."

  "That's good, because it's an argument you'd lose." She bent to the bottom step, picked up the folded comforter and threw it at him. "There's your blanket. Good night."

  "Sweet dreams."

  "You just better sleep lightly. If anything happens tonight—"

  "Your sister will be perfectly safe tonight, Casey." He rolled his eyes. "So will you."

  "Why am I not reassured?"

  He shrugged. "Oh, you know I'll protect you from the bad guys. You're just wondering who's going to protect you from me."

  "I think I can manage that part fine all by myself," she said.

  "We'll see." He lifted his hands to the front of his shirt and began to unbutton it.

  A flash of skin was all it took to remind Casey how he'd looked in the hotel hot tub. Hard, lean muscle and tanned flesh. She remembered his arms around her in the water, the way they'd felt. The way she'd felt.

  She tore her gaze away from his chest and headed up the stairs. But she didn't really think she'd sleep.

  Her prediction proved accurate. She tossed and turned and tried to still her ridiculous, illogical mind. Odd, since her mind wasn't normally illogical at all.

  Would Laura be upset? Had she really been attracted to him? It didn't matter. She would change her mind when she found out what a slug he was. No relationships—just sex—was basically what he'd told Casey. What a jerk.

  But he wanted her, not her sister.

  She caught herself smiling, then stopped.

  Well, so much for any silly romantic notion that might have made its way into her brain for even the slightest moment. He was here to do a job, period. Protect Laura until Casey could get to the bottom of what was going on with her. After that he could go back to his life of crime fighting. But he wouldn't forget her. Not ever.

  Because she was the only person in the world who knew who he was. And it put her that much closer to discovering the story behind the man.

  * * *

  Chapter 7

  « ^ »

  When in a state of panic, come on like a total idiot.

  It wasn't an axiom Marcus had heard anywhere, so he figured he must have made it up himself.

  Casey Jones scared the hell out of him. So did her sister. And he didn't even know why. He'd faced down armed killers with less trepidation.

  The two femmes fatales had gone up to their respective beds. He didn't know if they were sleeping, but if the circles around the younger one's eyes were anything to go by, she at least was probably awake.

  Her man-killer of an older sister was probably sound asleep and utterly peaceful. She certainly wasn't lying awake staring at the ceiling and wishing she could relive the past twenty-four hours. Like he was.

  Hell, he wouldn't know what to do differently, anyway. Except get the hell out of this house before Laura turned the spotlight on him. Human relationships were one skill he hadn't mastered at the feet of his mentor. Caine had been every bit as solitary as Marcus was. And probably just as clueless in … certain areas.

  And the part about lying awake all night was irrelevant. He couldn't go to sleep on the job—had been trained far too well for that. The thing was, he couldn't have slept even if he'd wanted to with his mind all stirred up and boiling over.

  What was it about the two women that put him in such a state?

  He sat on the sofa bed, wide-awake, and tried to quiet his mind. Deep breathing. Meditation. But not too deep. He needed to be aware of everything going on around him. Every sound, every movement. Every presence.

  And he needed to forget about the ladies upstairs. Especially Casey.

  "So just how serious is this thing, Casey?"

  Casey curled her legs underneath her on the foot of Laura's bed. She'd only come in to check on her sister, but Laura had been awake, waiting and determined to make conversation.

  "Not serious at all, sis."

  "Really?" Laura's eyes opened wide, her brows arching in surprise. "Gee, I never knew you kissed men that way if you weren't at least mildly serious about them."

  "Well, you never walked in on my dates before."

  "Not that there have been many to walk in on."

  "Maybe I don't tell you everything, little sister."

  Laura shook her head. "Yes, you do. You've always been an open book. That's why I'm trying hard to ignore this feeling that Marcus down there is more than just a boyfriend."

  "Try less. Way less. He's an acquaintance."

  "So you wouldn't mind if I asked him out myself?"

  Casey's head came up so fast she wrenched her neck.

  Laura smiled broadly. "I knew it!" she exploded, slapping both hands on the covers.

  "Knew what? You're welcome to him, Laura, but I'd better warn you in advance—he doesn't 'do relationships.' Just one-night stands."

  "That's ridiculous," Laura said.

  "It's what he said."

  "He's a man. What does he know?"

  Casey lowered her head with a sigh she didn't mean to emit, and Laura crawled lower on the bed and touched her shoulders. "Hey, you know I was only trying to get a rise out of you, right? I don't have any interest in your Marcus."

  "Really? 'Cause, Laura, if you do, I'll step aside. I could never let any man come between us."

  Laura smiled gently. "I love you for that. Because I know this guy means a lot more to you than you're letting on, Case. But no, I'm being honest here. I mean … I like him. I liked him right off the bat. He's got a way about him … almost makes me feel as if I know him already, like a dear old friend or something." She shrugged. "Or maybe it's just because of his name that I felt instantly close to him."

  "His name?" Casey narrowed her eyes. "What about his name?"

  Laura's gaze became shuttered. "Never mind. What I'm trying to get across here is that I think Marcus and I could be very good friends. Family even, if … well, you know, if this thing goes that far. But I don't feel even a twinge of anything romantic where he's concerned."

  Casey shrugged as if it didn't matter. "Well, maybe I don't, either."

  "Yeah, and maybe you don't believe in freedom of the press. But I doubt it."

  Casey snatched a pillow from the foot of the bed and threw it at her sister. Laura caught it, laughing. "Go to bed, Casey. Or go back downstairs and convince that man he most definitely does do relationships."

  Casey made a face but got to her feet. "You sure you're going to be able to sleep, Laura?"

  "Sure. Go on."

  Casey nodded but knew her sister was lying through her teeth. "I'll be right next door if you need me, kiddo."

  "Oh. Well, it's his loss."

  "Just bang on the wall if you get antsy."

  "Will do. 'Night, Case."

  "'Night." Casey left her sister's room, closed the door behind her and stood in the hallway for a long moment.

  Not a sound came up from downstairs. Was Marcus sound asleep already? And h
ow the heck did he intend to keep Laura safe if he was sleeping?

  She battled between her pride telling her not to be so interested in what he was doing and her curiosity. As it had all her life, her curiosity won. She tiptoed along the hall, paused at the top of the stairs and peered down.

  All the lights were off, and the sofa's back was to her. She couldn't see him at all. Silently she padded down the steps. One by one, lower and lower. She stood in the living room now, in the utter darkness, and waited a minute, listening for his breathing. But she heard nothing. It was as if he'd disappeared.

  Had he? Had he run out on her? Abandoned Laura just because of a simple disagreement?

  All right, not so simple, but…

  Casey stepped forward. A floorboard creaked and she froze, grimacing. Shooting a glance toward the sofa bed, she waited for some reaction, but none came. So she stepped again, thanking her stars when the floor kept quiet this time. And again, still farther, until she stood right beside the bed. But all she saw when she blinked through the darkness were some rumpled covers and a pillow bearing the indentation where his head had rested.

  Then someone grabbed her from behind, spun her around so fast she almost tipped over and flung her backward onto the bed. Before she had time to cry out, he was on top of her, straddling her, with his big hand clapped tight over her mouth.

  Blinking in absolute terror, she willed her vision to clear and finally stared up at him. Marcus. The Guardian. Great. So if they happened to be attacked tonight by a five-foot-two-inch, hundred-and-ten-pound reporter, he'd be able to handle it just fine.

  Recognition dawned in his dark eyes. But instead of getting up, he stayed where he was. "What are you doing down here?"

  "Mmf-mmf," she replied.

  "Again, please?" he said, removing his hand from her mouth.

  She glared at him. "Oh hell, Marcus, what do you think I'm doing down here? Checking to see if you snore for the exposé I'm writing?"

  He only kept studying her with those dark eyes.

  "It was quiet," she said, wishing he'd move. It felt too tempting having him stay where he was. "I was afraid you might have left."